Eclipse
by Local-Asshole
Summary: Kara leaves for a mission and when she returns, she is not entirely herself - Kara Danvers and Kara Zor-El are gone. All that is left is Supergirl, last child of Krypton and now Rao's successor. Based on this: "plastic-pipes./post/161320253433/plastic-pipes-i-can-c-basically-its-kinda-i".
1. The Star Striders

**The Star Striders**

* * *

 **Notes: Find me on Tumblr at spoopercorp and on AO3 as Local_Asshole.**

* * *

 _Summary: The friends and family that Kara - that Supergirl - used to love struggle with the transcendence that has left her memories in ruins, all attempting to spark some recognition from her._

* * *

Eliza brought her back.

To Midvale.

"Why are we here?" Supergirl inquired, hovering a few feet over the roof of her home.

Her former home; a quaint house in the suburbs under the night sky and a blanket of stars.

It was quiet, so quiet that chirping crickets could be heard. There was no chatter, not much life, just a slight breeze that rustled the greenery from time to time.

The Kryptonian set the woman down with a soft thud.

"You grew up here," Eliza said, motherly love encased in her eyes and an expectant twitch at the tips of her lips, "When you came to Earth. You don't remember?"

Supergirl did, she recalled bits and pieces, but not enough to warrant a reply that gave the woman any semblance of hope.

It was not enough for her to _feel_ anything, to recall fully a single memory.

"Why should I?" she asked instead.

There was a moment, shown in Eliza's eyes, that cracked a little - the optimism took a beating.

"'Cause I want my daughter back," the woman answered, slightly broken, a frown pulling the edges of her lips down.

She was strong, Supergirl knew that. She also knew that this woman raised two little girls after her husband, Jeremiah, was taken by a government organization and subsequently disappeared. Supergirl could still see it in Eliza's eyes, how much she missed him, still missed him because he was still gone.

But her little girls were not.

One of the little girls being Supergirl herself, a young Kryptonian that used to have no knowledge of how to control her powers on such a fragile, foreign planet.

Eliza was strong, always was for her daughters, and that was why her voice did not break open all the way.

But she did reach out to grasp Supergirl's hand gently, her skin soft, though wrinkled and slightly callous with age and her experience as a biochemical researcher.

Eliza intended though, to stretch her arm out to caress her daughter's cheeks, wanting to feel if it had the same texture as when she landed - smooth, supple, yet wet flesh from mourning Krypton; but Supergirl was too high, too out of reach.

"Come here," Eliza beckoned.

Supergirl obeyed, descending lower, closer.

But never did her feet touch the ground.

The proximity was enough though, for Eliza to stroke her girl's cheeks, to cup them in her hands.

And she remembered, with an aching heart, how small they were just around a decade ago, trembling with vulnerability.

Then Eliza's gaze finally traveled up to meet Supergirl's eyes, no longer a bright sapphire, but a bright white glow that was now in its place.

It was divine.

"Kara?" she called out.

There was no recognition, at least not an emotional one. It was detached, somewhat, from the rest of the world.

There was nothing.

* * *

Alex brought her to her apartment - Kara's apartment.

Supergirl recalled the location in fragments, she knew it was her abode with large windows in the highest complex to easily fly to and fro in the form of her alter ego - National City's savior.

The windows were open, to let the light in and the bustling noise of the city through - a cacophony of horns, shouts, screeching tires, and crying babies.

"Sister night!" Alex exclaimed, a little enthusiastic, a little uneasy. She was wearing an apron with pale yellow stripes, and it seemed to have been bombarded with numerous ingredients, some of them questionable in edibility.

Supergirl eyed the amount of food that laid across the dining table and floated over.

Ice cream, potstickers, chocolate pecan pie, cake, pizza...

"I do not need to eat, or drink, or rest."

Alex frowned, "Yeah," she sighed heavily and intertwined their fingers, "Yeah, I know that. I read the report. I guess I was just hoping...that there would be a change."

The woman looked to her sister, a being who was her sister, hoping that this event altered something between them.

It did not.

And the silence only made Supergirl tilt her head and blink her glowing eyes in vague curiosity.

Alex quickly pulled away and averted her gaze, perhaps afraid - terrified - of what she might find.

Of what she might not find.

"Movie?" she asked hastily, untying her apron and tossing it onto the kitchen counter before vaulting over the couch and swiping the remote from the coffee table.

She tried to be relaxed, she did, but the presence of Supergirl caused her the most discomfort.

"I can stay for a little longer," the Kryptonian replied, neutral.

It sounded so empty that it forced Alex's frown to deepen, creases lining her forehead.

"Which one?"

Supergirl flied over, "What do you suggest?"

Alex's tone grew frustrated, clipped, "Right. I guess you can't have an opinion or preference either."

"You are upset."

"Very astute observation," Alex snapped curtly.

"Why is it that you are upset?" Supergirl asked, and her voice held no personal concern - it was asked out of courtesy.

Alex scoffed, brought her eyes up to look at Supergirl, quiet, "I just want my sister back."

Her eyes, her face, her body all remained the same.

There was no emotion, no attachment that one should have felt for a sister, for family.

There was nothing.

* * *

Maggie took her to the alien bar afterwards, during the night, after her shift, and Supergirl quietly followed behind.

She continued to refuse to land, and the detective took note of that because, well, she _was_ a detective; she could not help but notice things, regardless of how trivial the details.

Like the eyes, how they were vacant, void of any genuine, personal emotions.

Then there was an absence of feelings.

And it alarmed Maggie quite a bit, knowing that before all of this, the blonde had been angry, bitter, disappointed, upset - all the simultaneously happy and painful complexities of... _living_.

But none of that was there, nothing in between either.

Supergirl was a shell, a holy and divine icon. From Maggie's understanding, Alex confessed tearfully to her that Rao had chosen an heir.

Kara Danvers, lover of people, food, musicals, and Disney movies, had transcended.

She was Supergirl.

She was a god.

The first thing that greeted them past the entrance was J'onn and M'gann, who both smiled behind the bar.

Except both the Martians' grins were tight-lipped and wary.

J'onn though, he looked weary, _was_ weary.

The Kryptonian he worked with for so long was now a surrogate daughter to him, and he her surrogate father.

Along with Alex of course.

The pain in his eyes was overwhelming, and he believed deep down that he was unable to help.

His and Kara's bond had only been strengthened within the D.E.O.; it was the only place they both shared.

But it was a facility, it had walls made of the sturdiest of metals, polished floors, lab rooms, and a medical bay full of injured and dying agents. And it had aliens imprisoned there.

It did not seem like a place that could really sort through Supergirl's memories with all the chaos there.

And J'onn did not know where else to take her.

His social interactions were awkward, he was a Martian so closed up from the genocide of his people.

Though M'gann was changing that. Slowly.

Before any of them could exchange proper greetings, an unsettling silence filled the entirety of the building.

It was eerie and Maggie, J'onn, and M'gann were ready for a fight, their stances hardening.

But there was no confrontation, no conflict.

One by one, it all dawned on the patrons, and one by one, each of them knelt.

Within a minute, all the alien customers were bowing to Rao's successor, floating reverently in the air.

And then Maggie realized that maybe it was not that Supergirl did not want to touch the ground, but that she could not.

And it filled her with dread.

* * *

James, Winn, and Mon-El awaited her within their den, their 'man cave' the latter two said.

The darkly lit and cramped room was a mess of stains, food, opened drinks, video games, useless antiques, trading cards, discs, wires, and papers strewn about.

It was easy to deduce that Winn owned the place.

"I suggest you clean your abode," Supergirl recommended.

Judging from the eyeroll that Winn and Mon-El gave her, they have both heard that countless times.

Though have never seen through to it.

"Trust me," James smiled, "They're not going to listen."

Winn set down his console controller and stepped across the dangerous terrain, waving a casual hand aside, "It's completely fine."

Then he slipped, fell forward.

A slender hand was pressed to his chest, pushed him as another hand grasped the back of his shirt and pulled him back upright.

"It is not safe," Supergirl said.

"I agree," James added, his gaze lingering on the woman in the air.

Winn chuckled, dusted himself off as he regained his footing, "Don't worry about it."

"You should be careful," Supergirl advised.

"I'm always careful," he bit back with a pout, placing his hands on his hips, "Unlike you, remember that time you..."

He went on a long rant, defending his clumsiness by disclosing Kara's, while Mon-El attempted to travel to them on a trek that could last millennia through a messy room like this, and James helped him regain his balance more than once.

Once Winn finished his story, he folded his arms and nodded his head in triumph.

Supergirl simply tilted her head, "I do not remember."

And then he faltered, shoulders sagging, back hunching, arms dangling to the ground.

"Right," he sighed at their predicament, "I, uh..."

"So, I hear you're a god now," Mon-El chimed in with a toothy grin, clearly forcing enthusiasm, albeit a little awkwardly, "I hear you're really making a difference out there. Like, nonstop. How's that going for you?"

Supergirl eyed him for several seconds.

"Well."

He also faltered at the over-simplified answer.

The Kryptonian continued to stare at the two boyish men.

"So," Winn started, "You're a god. Cool. Awesome."

Then her stare rested on James, who was relatively quiet throughout the gathering.

He cleared his throat, his deep voice caring, searching for something, for someone, "I guess you're the sun then? Since Rao's the..."

He trailed off, unsure of how to really deal with the stranger in front of him while Winn rubbed the back of his neck nervously, darting his eyes between the two.

Supergirl nodded, "Indeed. I am the personification of the sun, if that is how one desires to describe it."

Winn suddenly guffawed, and it startled Mon-El to the point he jumped a bit.

"Per _sun_ ification!"

The Daxamite next to him burst into laughter as well.

James simply rolled his eyes, burying his face into his hands, but his heavy sigh held a certain amount of endearment.

After several seconds of the duo entertaining themselves at the hilarious quip, they trailed off into apprehensive chuckles when they saw that Supergirl did not look amused.

"What is so funny?" she inquired.

"It's a pun," Winn explained, "It's like a joke with multiple meanings I guess, 'cause the words used could have different definitions, but sound the same-"

"It's wordplay," James interrupted before he could go on a rambling tangent.

There was a quiet moment, and Winn felt his fragile ego bruise.

"It was _funny_ ," he hesitated, "Don't you get it? You said-"

"I understand," Supergirl interrupted, "I only fail to see how it is so comedic."

Winn's eyes bulged and then there were tears spilling out as he fell to his knees and grabbed one of the Kryptonian's legs, "I miss you so much, Kara!"

The sight was utterly pitiful. Almost comically so.

Supergirl looked down on him, then to Mon-El, who had a somber expression.

Then she glanced to James, and her gaze lingered for a fraction of a second more than necessary.

And he told himself that it did not mean anything.

* * *

Lucy came back. For her.

For Kara.

And she took her away to the other D.E.O. base, the rocky cavern with jagged walls.

She had heard, continued to hear, the great many deeds that Supergirl did for the people of Earth. Everything dropped; crime rates, suicide rates, poverty rates...

Everything was generally better. A lot better than before Supergirl transcended.

Because she wanted to make Earth a place of rapture.

She was exalted and worshipped now, by the majority, if not all, the inhabitants on Earth - alien and human alike.

Lucy knew Kryptonians were a race that upheld honor and had the greatest amount of respect from other aliens, all for different reasons: for the power they wielded in their military, for the intelligence they harbored in their science, for the influence that impacted others with their artistic talents...

So when Lucy saw her again, she was struck into a dumb sort of silence. She admired Kara, for her loyalty, strength, compassion, but the person hovering in front of her was not _her_.

"Do you remember me, Kara?" she asked, somewhat hopeful.

Supergirl tore her gaze away from the headquarters' terminals, "I do. I believe your name is Lucy Lane."

The brunette felt her lungs constrict with how unfamiliar the voice sounded, how it resonated with the fact that Supergirl did not _know_ her and only knew _of_ her.

It felt intimidating to stand in front of someone - maybe something - with so much unrelenting power.

Lucy scoffed, chuckled at herself, because the familiarity she sought in those scintillating eyes were not there.

She found nothing.

She was no longer a friend, but an acquaintance, perhaps not even that either.

And a part of her blamed herself for keeping away from Kara for so long due to her duties as major of the Army and as director of the D.E.O.

She thought she should have tried harder to maintain their bond, but business hindered it.

Or at least that was what she wanted to tell herself.

And her efforts now might be fruitless due to her absence.

"Is something the matter?"

Lucy's head snapped up at the voice, the concern almost hollow, as if Supergirl evenly spread her love to all in the vast universe until everyone was truly equal in her eyes.

Which was not a bad thing, it should not be a bad thing, but it sure did feel like it.

A part of Lucy knew that Kara - no, that Supergirl - would sacrifice her entire family if it were weighed against an entire population of a planet now. The worst part was maybe she would not even think twice about the decision. Nobody and nothing could sway her emotionally anymore.

Then another part of Lucy thought that the mere notion was factually impossible, she hoped that maybe everyone's efforts would eventually get through the celestial barrier that barred Kara.

Because Kara had taught her, unfailingly, that there was always hope. No matter what. And to never give up.

"It's nothing," Lucy answered.

Supergirl tilted her head at the lie, heard the heart in the human's chest skip a beat.

"You are lying to me."

It did not sound like an accusation at all, just an observation.

But Lucy's frame sulked a little when she corrected the sacred being.

"No. To myself."

* * *

Clark flew with her, to New Jersey, to his home.

It was a metropolitan city indeed, but Supergirl could not help but notice its mediocre size compared to National City back in California.

It was still noisy thankfully, of horns, chatter, and animals; the sounds were not the same though. Clark understood that. It was quieter. He enjoyed the quiet, having grown up in the endless cornfields of Kansas, and Metropolis was more compromising for his duties and love life.

The quiet always bothered Kara though.

However, not at first. He remembered the Danvers informing him that his cousin was experiencing an onslaught of heightened senses. The vision was easy to handle (though terrifying), but the strength and hearing, not so much.

Especially the hearing.

Clark knew that Kara thrived off of life, off of the hustle and bustle of cities and people. She confided in her sister once that if it got too quiet that it would be taken advantage of, Krypton would exploit it and come back to haunt her in her dreams - nightmares.

Alex in turn confessed to him that she had absolutely no idea what to do, and he regretfully responded with a similar answer.

Clark told Alex that she was the closest family Kara had, knowing his absence left a hole of abandonment.

A part of him knew that he purposely evaded his cousin whenever she sought comfort from her last blood relative from the House of El.

But he knew, still knew, that he could not help. He was born a Kryptonian, but raised a human; he never experienced Krypton, he did not know how his tongue should twist with the frustrating inflections of Kryptonese, he did not know how to celebrate their traditions, he did not know anything apart from learning the surface of his culture and heritage within the frozen Fortress of Solitude.

He did not know how to keep the remnants of Krypton from dying, fading with a pathetic whisper.

But Clark knew that no one could really comfort Kara, could actually protect her from the destruction she witnessed with her very own eyes, the memory now a nightmare for the majority of her childhood into her adolescence.

He could not fathom the loneliness she felt when she landed, or even the isolation she might have felt in the present.

She always mourned for Krypton alone and he could never quite understand the depth of her loss. He could never comprehend the pain that flashed in her eyes when he said flatly the name of Krypton's god.

She was too late, and there were countless times where she never acknowledged that it was not in her control. It still happened.

Sometimes Clark saw her, really looked at her, and he knew that she was genuinely the last child of Krypton.

"Kara..."

When he scanned her face, in his small apartment, on his dinner table with Lois by his side, he saw nothing.

Absolutely _nothing_.

And he knew Lois was equally startled.

* * *

Cat was, quite frankly, just as alarmed as the rest of Kara's family and friends when she showed up in her office.

Well, not really _in_ her office because the glorious deity remained just outside of the door.

Cat swung out of her chair and stood, "You may enter... _Kara_."

She tested the name out upon her tongue, trying to record any flash of recognition, of emotion, but there was nothing; Supergirl continued to defy the laws of gravity, continued to never set foot on the ground.

She was not tethered, not quite bound to Earth. No trace of anything mundane.

 _Not quite._

Cat recognized that everyone who Kara cared about had a fragile string attached to her, to Supergirl, weighing her down, but not fully connecting her to Earth.

And the strings were so very breakable, one by one, each of them slowly detaching as time passed.

Alex and Cat herself were the only strings that remained.

And she could feel all of them weakening further, felt hers loosening, and she knew it was futile to try and repair it against the pull of someone so almighty, so _godly_.

Cat was aware that just because the other bonds have snapped before hers did not in any way mean that they were lesser in value.

Sometimes Supergirl went where the strings could not follow, and the gentle tugs finally clipped them off because none of them could heave at just the right time with the right amount of strength to guarantee some sort of... _human_ reaction.

Cat could feel that it was only a matter of time before hers was yanked apart, wrenched away from her control.

And it did when Supergirl gave a small nod, and it felt like a goodbye disguised as a greeting.

She was too far away, too unearthly to set foot on such sodom land.

Cat felt her string draw, drag a little until it finally fell, and her expression was one of resignation, but still filled with a spark of hope.

There was only one left, and that was Alex, and she was a fighter.

Then Supergirl gazed out, towards the balcony - no - past it, to something else.

It was almost forlorn, a little bit longing, a little bit confused. She slowly brought a hand up to rest over her chest, over the insignia engraved into her suit.

Maybe it was _someone_ else that she was looking out to.

Cat had an intuition that was arguably unparalleled by anyone else, and she prided herself in that, but she was baffled to realize only just now that there was someone else that could still save Kara too, another string with her older sister's.

Both of them were more flexible than the others, both of them knew where to follow, when and where to pull.

But Alex's string was tired, exhausted, from trying too long and too hard, becoming more worn out with every rejection from Supergirl.

It was also the only one that was still tugging.

And this other person's was still strong, perhaps because they have only been analyzing the plight from afar, never directly encountering Rao's child, never beckoning Kara to come back.

Maybe it gave up too early, right from the start; it never pulled and probably never will pull.

The person just watched as everything around Supergirl fell apart and Cat momentarily felt anger boil in the pit of her stomach. She thought the mysterious person a coward, that if Kara never came back, that it was on them for not trying like the rest.

And she thought that they were close, so close to getting her back judging from how small the proximity the ground was from Supergirl's feet as the distance gradually shut.

The anger flared again, at the coward, because if Kara was lost, then it was their fault.

Cat saw the decision being made by Supergirl, the resolve to leave and to finally answer the question that everyone had been asking.

* * *

"Why haven't you done anything?"

Alex's tone was agitated, distressed through the phone.

Lena shut her glistening eyes, took a measured breath, and leaned against her desk in the dim light of her office - so dim it barely contrasted the darkness of the night out the windows of her balcony.

Her hand came up to press against her forehead with trembling fingers, and her voice shook within a whisper.

"I don't know," her voice cracked, "What am I _supposed_ to do?"

* * *

 **Notes: Constructive criticism appreciated.**


	2. The Moon Marcher

**The Moon Marcher**

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 **Notes: Find me on Tumblr at spoopercorp and on AO3 as Local_Asshole.**

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 _Summary: Lena struggles, the ordeal hitting her harder than she will ever admit. She tries to convince herself that the Kara she knew is gone forever, that Supergirl is all that remains, that any trace of their friendship is nonexistent._

 _But Supergirl keeps coming back to her balcony, and it often leaves Lena wondering why._

* * *

"What am I _supposed_ to do?"

Lena could feel Alex fume from the other line.

"Something!" she cried out, desperate, "Anything!"

"I'm not..." Lena trailed off, took a deep breath, "I'm not you. I'm not James. I'm not Winn. I'm just..."

She faltered again.

"Kara and I, we've only shared a few lunches together, we've only traded some light banter, we've only known each other for a few months. Agent Danvers, I probably don't mean that much to her. I'm not going to be enough."

"Listen here, Luthor, time doesn't always dictate the strength of a friendship. But I know Kara, she cares about you. A lot. So if you don't get your fucking ass out and help, if she doesn't come back home, then _I'm_ blaming _you_ for doing absolutely nothing while everyone else tried."

"Okay, okay."

Then Lena slumped against her desk and she finally shed a tear, "I'm sorry..."

Her apology was hoarse, but sincere.

There was a long stretch of silence.

"Don't be a coward, Lena."

She flinched at the words.

"But you've actually saved her before," she whispered solemnly.

There was a small pause.

"But you've saved the entire alien population on Earth. You can save Kara."

There was a flat, droning beep once Alex hung up.

And Lena was left alone in her office.

She sighed shakily before sliding her phone onto her desk, before moving to her cabinet and pouring herself a cup of lukewarm bourbon.

She tossed some ice into the whiskey, then moved to her balcony.

Lena was three cups into her liquor, her thoughts foggy, when _she_ arrived.

It startled her and she jumped, the glass slipped from her hand - it was pulled by gravity, headed towards the ground many stories below and awaiting its shattering fate.

But Supergirl caught it with her almighty hand.

Lena examined the Kryptonian floating in front of her, on the other side of the railing.

Supergirl adorned the stars - the deep space of the universe wrapped fittingly around her body. Her cape was long, it passed her bare feet by a yard with a pointed end; the red of the otherworldly cloth was deeper, darker than her original suit.

The emblem on her chest was a bright gold, as if a blazing, fiery star was actually encased within the symbol - the seams that lined around the fabric were just as radiant.

She was the descendant of the sun.

She was hallowed, but hollow.

Her eyes were equally shining, though almost blank.

But Lena averted her gaze, before she lingered and thought there was a reason for the 'almost'.

That was when she realized Supergirl was still, her arm stretched out to return the glass of bourbon.

Lena took it back, made sure that she very carefully avoided making any physical contact.

"Thanks, Supergirl."

It was easy to call her that.

 _It's not her._

 _It's not._

Her tone was terse and rude, the alcohol loosening her tongue more and more, and she bit the muscle in the hopes of preventing herself from saying something stupid.

The woman in front of her simply tilted her head.

" _What_?" Lena snapped again.

"You do not address me as Kara, like everyone else," Supergirl stated, and she seemed unaffected by the Luthor's instability.

"'Cause you aren't," she bit out, and it sounded a little menacing.

Lena was most certainly not prepared for this visit. She did not have any other background information other than it was a mission that had gone awry. She thought, with bitter humor, that Supergirl was 'promoted' in a way.

"You are intoxicated," the Kryptonian stated.

Lena scoffed, rolled her eyes, "Please. Tell me something I don't know."

Supergirl did not speak.

She left.

And Lena was unsure whether or not she was thankful for that.

She fell asleep that night in tears, her heart aching for Kara as she wallowed in drunken agony.

Again.

* * *

She missed her.

She missed her so much it felt like she was being torn apart inside.

Lena woke up in her bed and routinely - robotically - entered her luxurious and oversized bathroom, ornate with marble and unnecessarily extravagant pillars.

All for one lonely occupant.

She grimaced from the hangover, and when she faced the mirror she noted that in her exhaustion she left her makeup on the night before, and she was still in her dress clothes.

Lena stared at herself, lipstick and mascara smudged from wiping away her tears and tossing and turning in her restless sleep.

Her dull green eyes were drained of life, they were barren and desolate, and there was perhaps just as much nothingness in them as Supergirl's.

Almost.

The grief in Lena's eyes had always been unmatched.

Unrivalled until she met _her_.

Kara Danvers, totally awkward and totally normal, totally _human_ , junior reporter from CatCo.

It did not take long for Lena to fall in love, it was difficult not to be completely entranced by the blonde's love for food and curious fascination that drove her journalism.

Out of seven billion people on planet Earth, Lena's heart just had to stop for her, even though she knew that she herself would never be chosen.

Kara chose James, and though the relationship was temporary, he was everything that Lena was not - _could_ _not_ be.

The majority of the time she was a businesswoman, acting C.E.O. of L-Corp, so she had to be callous, cold, ruthless, with a brutal demeanor of indifference. She had to be cruel and strict and a _Luthor_. She was not outgoing, not terribly amicable, not quite in tune with even herself.

She was constantly lost.

Then Kara chose Mon-El, another temporary relationship, but yet another person that Lena could not be.

Her sarcastic quips were not lighthearted, they were bitter and wry and often had unintentional dark implications.

She was human - fragile - and being with a Kryptonian as a feeble being proved challenging enough without Lena being a part of an anti-alien family.

But she told herself that James was a human too, that he was an exception for Kara, and that gave her the tiniest of hopes before her mind over-thought; James was strong and passionate, but Lena was too.

She was strong on the outside, much stronger than him. It acted as a shield for how weak she was inside, and if that calculating shell was broken, then the rest of her shattered.

James did not have an impressive defense like Lena's, who gave her all on her heartless exterior. He was steadfast all around, he had a support system, he grew up with all types of love and he knew them and could reciprocate them, he could take hits from all angles, and he did not have an Achilles heel.

Lena did, and it took one well-measured strike to collapse her, to impair her so thoroughly to the point all that was left was a wreckage of fractured ruins.

Kara knew what love was, her heart was full of it and she received just as much or more in return.

Lena did not; no matter how much love she gave others, which had been exactly two people, it had never gone well.

She had to kill Jack.

And Lex was dead to her.

Maybe because she was so inept at love, because she was so disconnected and detached and unable to really fathom such an abstract concept.

So why did she give her heart to Kara? What made her different? She had already deceived her once, a liar just like everyone else when Lena had been completely open in their friendship.

She knew though, that Supergirl was Kara's secret to tell, that she was the sole person that could choose whether or not to disclose it and who to give that information to.

And Lena was never going to be one of them, and the thought really did not come to her as a shock - it was expected, but it still hurt.

The revelation left their bond in tatters, but time managed to patch it back together, even if there were still cracks, and Lena told herself that they would heal eventually, but the pain was still too recent.

Then she told herself that most of all, she was simply not enough.

By now, Lena was aware that almost all of her heart belonged to Kara; it was not consciously given, but it was still given willingly, just little bits and pieces after each of their lunches to the point Lena was unaware that it was even happening.

By the time she realized, it was too late - there was almost nothing left to give.

But Supergirl was the enemy, the cousin of Superman, the hero of Metropolis who locked her beloved brother up and further tore apart her already dysfunctional family.

And Lena ended up blaming herself anyway.

She still did.

She stood by, did nothing, as she watched her brother descend into insanity, despite the signs. Maybe it was because she was afraid of him, maybe it was because she understood the method to his barbaric madness.

If she refused to just sit by maybe Lex would not have killed thousands upon thousands of people. Maybe he would still be here with her, playing chess and showing her the ropes of being the C.E.O. of a multibillion dollar company. Maybe Lillian would have been less...inhumane and wicked.

Sometimes she wondered if she herself would soon follow.

But Lena would be damned if she stood by again, if the consequences of her inactions caused her another loss.

Lena would be damned if she just sat on the moon and watched as the flaring beauty of the sun flickered out.

And a selfish part of her did not want to try to bring Kara back, because if she tried and if she failed, that meant she was not enough.

Her conscience already had an abundance of burdens on her, weighing down her shoulders while she was already bleeding inside, crushing her chest until she was breathless and gasping for air.

But a sudden bout of dread filled Lena, spontaneously hitting her as she sat in her office chair, at the realization that Supergirl might not return due to her unforgivably inebriated state yesterday.

As night came and her employees trickled out of her building, Lena believed that she might never come back.

But she did, when everything in National City was so silent in its sleep that it might as well have been dead.

They were on the balcony again and this time Supergirl was hovering next to Lena, who was nursing yet another cup of liquor - rum this time.

They did not speak to one another, simply basked in the presence of the moon above them.

Then...

"You should rest."

Lena shrugged, elbows rested on the rails with her beverage in hand, "I don't need it. I'll sleep when pigs fly."

Supergirl gave a confused look for a second, but her mouth opened to state something instead of ask something, "Scientifically, humans-"

Lena took a sip of her drink, more sober than she was before, "I just mean I've always been a nighthawk."

"What is that?" Supergirl questioned after a moment.

"What's what?" Lena repeated, asking for clarification.

"A nighthawk," came the answer, simple.

Lena finally glanced to the side.

 _Of course. Gods don't really have any concept of...earthly things._

For a moment she wondered if Supergirl was gradually losing her more human memories, or if they were gone in the first place.

"I'm nocturnal to simply put it," she looked to the faint light in the cloudless sky, "I sleep once in a blue moon."

It was blunt, straight to the point.

Then it was silent again.

Then it was broken by Supergirl. Again.

"What does that mean? Once in a blue moon, that is. And what you said earlier about when pigs fly - pigs cannot fly."

And Lena found it baffling that the Kryptonian was trying to engage in a conversation; everyone else informed that holding one with her was taxing, because she never initiateed, because she preferred to be silent unless it was Alex.

And maybe Lena hated it a little bit because she was not one for small talk, never was, no one was willing to speak to her during her childhood up to when she met Jack Spheer, then Kara Danvers. Luckily for her, the blonde's mouth ran faster than her brain sometimes, so Lena was thankful that her rambling prevented her the option to speak.

Casual socializing was always pretty unnerving if she cared about the person.

Her thoughts were so harrowingly pensive she wanted to sedate herself - a coma was better than fighting for a lost cause.

"They're idioms," Lena explained slowly, cautiously, "They're phrases with meanings that aren't...inferable from the individual words themselves."

Supergirl nodded, "So?"

Lena scoffed, "Well, 'once in a blue moon' basically means 'rarely', and 'when pigs fly' basically means 'never' because, as you intelligently pointed out, pigs can't fly."

"You are amused by my lack of knowledge of these phrases."

"You hit the nail on the head," Lena answered with another idiom, maybe because she was slightly entertained by how Supergirl's eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

Then she realized that _the_ crinkle was still there and her heart skipped a beat before she gulped the painful lump in her throat down with a swig of rum.

"And that means..."

"That you're correct in your assumption," Lena finished.

"You are speaking to me in idioms, hoping to entertain yourself with my confusion," Supergirl stated, "You do not seem to be much of one that enjoys creating jokes."

"Well, you can't judge a book by its cover," Lena smirked.

Supergirl took a moment to herself before replying, "And that means that one cannot judge something or someone based on appearance?"

"That's right," Lena smiled halfheartedly, "See? Piece of cake."

"I thought you were informed that I do not eat."

The Luthor sighed, "'Piece of cake' is actually another idiom. And here I thought gods were supposed to be omniscient."

Supergirl shook her head at the tease, "Idioms are...perplexing."

Lena only now noticed that they were both completely facing one another, entranced in their trivial banter, but she still forced distance - at least three feet apart from the goddess.

"Idioms are a part of everyday life," she explained, "Humans often speak metaphorically. We're based on emotions, and sometimes figurative statements work better than literal ones."

"I see."

Lena hummed, "I guess it's time for you to start hitting the books, just don't bite off more than you can chew."

The Kryptonian was quiet again.

"What, Supergirl? Can't wrap your head around idioms?" she joked, and a chuckle bubbled its way up her throat.

"I..." the heroine pressed her lips shut, then her ears twitched and she looked out into the distance.

"Go," Lena whispered, "They need you more."

Her own eyes widened a fraction at what she was implying with the last word.

 _They need you more than I do._

But Supergirl did not seem to contemplate the underlying meaning within the sentence and bolted off at sonic speed.

Her departure was excruciating, but Lena belatedly noticed that, and she was thankful that the delayed realization hit when she was in bed.

* * *

A week later, Supergirl visited again. At night. It seemed to always be at night, when everyone was gone and she was the only one present, and another thought dawned on Lena.

That she grew more and more angry every time they met. At Supergirl. At herself.

Though she did not analyze where it came from, she already vaguely knew its roots, there was no need to open more cans of worms for herself.

But when Supergirl landed, well, floated on her balcony...this time she looked a little... _troubled_.

But Lena did not pry and drank the alcohol in her hand instead, hoping the stupor was not so bad this time around.

And they were next to each other again, looking up at the stars, the very ones that anointed Lena's best friend.

Then finally, _finally_ , she uttered something.

"Alexandra Danvers has taken me to many places, hoping to spark my memory."

Lena side-eyed her, saw that Supergirl was staring intently at her own hands.

She swallowed the bile in her throat, already knew that she would not like the answer.

"And you..." her voice wavered with her quivering lips, "Have you remembered something?"

"No."

The answer was succinct, decisive, and it _hurt_.

But the expression on Supergirl's face was almost...guilty.

"Oh," Lena said, clenching her hands so they stopped trembling, "I see. Are you okay?"

Her gaze returned to the night lights of the city, and the green in her eyes was glum.

"There is still almost nothing," Supergirl breathed, somewhat lamenting, "Yet...I find myself drawn here. To you. I think to you. It is... _familiar_. Were we..." she pauses, "We were something to each other, were we not? Something important?"

Lena's shoulders dropped, "Friends."

The word - the _truth_ \- tasted bitter on her tongue, more so than the liquor, but she continued, "You were - are - the closest person I have to a family. You're very important to me."

"I see..."

The tone was almost disappointed, but before Lena could determine what it meant, the voice went on.

"And what exactly determines a being's... _importance_?"

The Luthor shrugged, "Your guess is as good as mine. As far as I know, it's a subjective matter," she finally turned to Supergirl, eye to eye, human to entity, "Every being is important to you - you're a god, you're objective, utilitarian. That's your duty," she shook her head, "But to humans, there are countless variables. A life can be traded for many things, abstract or material..."

She sighed, ran her fingers through her hair, "There are some days where I'm to be murdered for nothing, and there are some days where I'm to be murdered for billions - or maybe even a promise, empty or not. It depends on the person, their conscience, their pride. And a lot of the times, they can be wavered. But human decisions fluctuate. With the right words of course."

Supergirl looked as if she did not particularly like the answer with how her body tensed slightly.

Her spine straightened up farther, her shoulders broadened up more.

"And your survival thus far is an example of your persuasive and dissuasive abilities I presume?"

Lena shrugged, downed her entire drink into her mouth and relished in the burn, refusing to cough when her eyes watered with how powerful it was, "Some of the time."

Now Supergirl was a little intrigued, "And other times?"

"Close calls," Lena chuckled, though it was empty, "You usually end up saving me the last possible second. You've always had impeccable timing."

Her face morphed into a scowl at how familiar she sounded, and she reminded herself for perhaps the millionth time...

 _It's not her._

* * *

The next time Lena saw Supergirl was around three days later.

She watched the news on her television with a glass of tequila and an appalled expression as the heroine managed to save the hostages from a bank heist.

Six died in the crossfire. Ten others sustained injuries.

Once it hit near midnight, two hours after the event, she arrived.

Lena walked out onto the balcony, to achieve a clearer view of the goddess floating before her.

And for the first time since Supergirl transcended, she looked tired and worn out.

Not noticeably though, since the exhaustion only pulled her glowing eyes down by a measly fraction.

Supergirl hovered next to her now, and they resumed their routine of looking out to National City.

Lena, at this point, was a little bit frustrated with everything; with all the meaningless conversations, with her board members, with the world, with _her_.

Supergirl kept coming back, and from Lena's understanding, it was usually the rest of the super gang that had to chase after her.

And she did not know _why_ Supergirl kept coming back.

A sharp intake of breath snapped Lena out of her thoughts, she took a sip then turned her head to the side, brows scrunched together in concern.

Then Supergirl sighed.

"I cannot deliver humanity from such evil - from themselves."

Lena scoffed inside her own head.

 _Tell me about it._

"Humanity does not deserve salvation. They are not worthy."

And then Lena froze, her muscles pulled taut, her spine stiffened, her grip on the glass was like iron.

"How can you say that?" she whispered harshly.

"They are foolish," Supergirl stated simply, and Lena did concur with that, "They continue to repeat mistakes after being told not to do so, after being proven wrong," she shook her head, "They are cruel to one another for the most trivial of things."

Again. Agreeable.

And then Supergirl said it again, rephrased.

"Humans are unworthy of deliverance."

Something inside Lena crumbled and she lashed out, mind addled with anger.

"Kara Zor-El, Kara Danvers... _Kara_ wouldn't have said that, in _any_ persona of hers. _Ever_ ," she reprimanded, "She's _not_ her cousin; he believes humans need to be protected and saved 'cause we're feeble and fragile beings; he simplifies us into needy creatures and thinks of justice in black and white."

Lena turned her gaze back onto National City, and her voice wavered, "Kara believes humans, however light or dark, should have second chances - maybe even three 'cause she's too nice for her own good. She, more than most, understands the complexities of humanity and every other being - she sees everything in shades of gray because there's _more_ to everyone."

Lena choked down a sob, but her voice still came out a little strangled and cracked, "And I know better than anyone else how awful we are, how unnecessarily cruel we are to each other, how war is waged over the pettiest things, how fear of the unknown drives us to make abhorrent decisions..."

Supergirl's lips parted, as if to speak, but no, Lena was _not_ done yet.

"Trust me," she rebuked, and it was dripping with disapproval, "I didn't think humanity could be saved for the longest time, especially by some..." she gestured to Supergirl's figure, "... _deity_ such as yourself. Then Kara showed up," and her voice broke again and this time it sounded pleading, "For her, it's about helping, about supporting, about encouraging others to grow, to teach them and to learn from them. To be _better_ than who we were."

Once the speech of reproach was over, Lena's chest heaved with every furious breath she took, and her grip on her drink was so tight her knuckles whitened.

For the longest time, Lena did not receive a reply, and she was left waiting like a fool. Then she formulated a retort, she was quick, but not quick enough because Supergirl finally spoke.

The goddess echoed her words from before, remained firm in her stance, but the cadence in her voice had a mysteriously gentle lilt to it, "Humans do not deserve to be saved."

There was silence.

Then Supergirl connected their eyes, the divine glow so soft and sincere that Lena's breath hitched.

"But you do."

* * *

 **Notes: Constructive criticism appreciated.**


	3. The Sun Seeker

**The Sun Seeker**

* * *

 **Notes: Find me on Tumblr at spoopercorp and on AO3 as Local_Asshole.**

* * *

 _Summary: A tragic event strikes Lena; the aftermath leaves scars that cut into her bones, and the dark thoughts that corrupt her mind finally surface - they are coaxed out by Supergirl, who knows Lena just as well as Kara does._

* * *

 _"You know," Lena started, "On Earth, we actually named Krypton's red sun LHS-2520."_

 _"I think I like Rao better," Kara smiled._

 _"Me too," she agreed, "LHS-2520 is too wordy."_

 _"What did you call our moon?"_

 _"A name just as riveting as LHS-2520," she hummed._

 _Kara chuckled, "We actually call it Nightwing."_

 _"Krypton was polytheistic?" Lena asked, and she refrained from wincing at the 'was'._

 _Kara relaxed into her friend's couch, nodding, "Yeah. Rao has three children, all godlings, but Rao is the prime entity of Krypton."_

 _Lena crossed her legs, intrigued, "Did your world not have clashes between the religious and scientific communities?"_

 _Kara shook her head and laughed, "Uh, no. No, that conflict is exclusive to Earth actually, from what I've seen."_

 _Lena chuckled, "Well, humans_ are _pretty primitive."_

 _The Kryptonian's eyes widened and she stammered, "Oh! I-I didn't mean it like that! I just - sorry."_

 _"It's fine, Kara," she smirked, "It sounds like Krypton was an accepting and progressive place."_

 _The blonde shook her head, "Not really, my planet was actually a little xenophobic, and there were some class issues too."_

 _One of Lena's eyebrows arched, "Seriously?"_

 _"Seriously," she repeated, "The military guild had some spat with the other factions."_

 _"About?"_

 _"Well, red hair was a sign of Rao's divine influence, and anyone born with it was automatically drafted into the military, so..."_

 _Lena nodded, "Ah, I see."_

 _"And my planet preferred to be isolated. We were strict on visitors, but often traveled ourselves. Me especially, with my dad."_

 _"Special privileges?" Lena smirked._

 _"Pretty much."_

 _"Why's that?"_

 _Kara grinned, "I'm from a noble house, I could pretty much do anything I wanted since my family is a lineage that directly descends from Rao."_

 _Lena did a double take, "So, you were royalty?"_

 _"I guess?"_

 _She gasped, "I didn't know I was speaking to a_ princess _, Ms. Danvers."_

 _Kara's expression soured, her nose scrunching at the term, "Well, no, some citizens weren't too happy with my family not having red hair."_

 _Lena chuckled, "I could see you leading a planet, I bet you would've had your fleets travel far and wide for the perfect intergalactic meal."_

 _"Hey!" Kara pouted, "We weren't a monarchy, we were more of a democracy!"_

 _"Regardless, my statement still holds true, and you didn't even deny it."_

 _The blond folded her arms and grumbled._

 _"So what's the story?"_

 _Kara lifted her head up, "Story?"_

 _"About Rao? The children? Surely there has to be something, religion always has a certain mythos to tell," Lena urged._

 _"Well, according to the oldest story," Kara began, "Rao was supposedly the first being to be born from the void, then out of loneliness, it created the universe and then the jewel planet Krypton. Three godlings were created from its essence and they are Flamebird, Nightwing, and Vohc the Builder."_

 _"Builder?" Lena inquired._

 _"Vohc is tasked with decorating Krypton, hence, jewel," Kara explained, "And Flamebird is tasked with destroying those creations in the hopes that Vohc would create something more beautiful - a cycle of destruction and renewal. Nightwing is the vigilante, but can only come out at night and he grew lonely, so Vohc created a bridge between light and dark."_

 _"And let me guess," Lena hummed, "Flamebird and Nightwing fell madly and incestuously in love with each other."_

 _Kara laughed, "Yeah, and Vohc was inspired by the love so much that he created what he considered his greatest achievement, the heart."_

 _Lena tilted her head, her lips pulling up, "Of course, how romantic."_

 _Kara's smile faltered slightly, "But Flamebird had to destroy it, no matter how much Vohc begged her not to. So, he got revenge and allied himself with Cythonna, goddess of ice and darkness and Rao's counterpart, and separated her and Nightwing. By banishing him, he created the Phantom Zone. Vohc disowned his entire family with his treachery and renamed himself into Vohc the Breaker; he became a heretic and the first sinner."_

 _Lena's eyebrows furrowed and then her lips curled in an attempt to lighten the situation, "I can relate to that family drama."_

 _Kara chuckled at that, but it sounded uneasy, her crinkle appearing in concern for her friend. She reached out and placed her hand on Lena's, squeezing reassuringly._

 _She felt her stiffen and pull away._

 _Kara's expression fell slightly._

Right. She's still upset.

 _The Supergirl reveal was only a week ago, and Lena's trust was still tender and mending._

 _"Um," the Luthor stood up and turned away, towards her desk, "I have a meeting soon, we can catch up again some other time."_

 _She frowned, but nodded, "Yeah. Yeah, of course. I'll just - I'll text you."_

* * *

Lena shook her head, banishing the memories from her mind; she knew it was futile though, Kara eventually came back, always.

And those three words that were uttered from Supergirl's lips did not help her endeavors either.

 _"But you do."_

Instead, it made her confused, angry, sad, so capricious with her moods that she could not decipher them until it shifted to another.

Her thoughts were just as erratic, jumping from memory to memory, both good and bad.

And it was always about Kara.

Lena and Supergirl ceased their nightly meetings, ever since the peculiar... _confession_ of some sort.

The former told herself that it was due to her busy schedule and the slight rise in crime from Cadmus straddlers, not because of the righteous speech she practically screamed at Supergirl.

Lena knew she was in the wrong because who was she, a _Luthor_ , to know what justice really was? She was no hero, certainly did not feel like one even after she thwarted her mother's plans to eradicate all aliens inhabiting Earth.

Supergirl - _Kara_ \- was more experienced in that field, but Lena's bottled, unkempt anger exploded.

National City's hero, Earth's champion, was certainly still righteous.

Just in such a cruel way.

Saving people was no longer a passion, a belief in love and second chances.

It was a duty, a job that Supergirl was permanently bound by, and the chains seemed to become more cumbersome every time she entertained herself with the news channel.

This time, Lena watched from the line of people acquiring their food from the restaurant nearest to her company. She saw the anchor disclose the most recent heroic action taken by Supergirl; a neighborhood with a reputation for a predominantly alien populace was being threatened by some leftover Cadmus-supporting thugs with otherworldly weaponry.

Lena sighed, glanced at her watch and saw it was a little past nine in the evening, and she just wanted to get her takeout so she could go back to her office to work on her projects until she passed out on her desk from exhaustion again, much to the dismay of her secretary.

Then Lena finally noticed the whispers around her, no doubt gossiping about the Luthor in front of their very wary eyes; they sounded apprehensive and judgemental.

Not that it really bothered her, she had grown accustomed to them, but it was only a matter of time before someone became hostile and confronted her.

Lena dug her hand into her purse and left it there, her hand clutching tightly onto her taser, and she silently thanked herself for deciding to wear her blazer and trousers today because she certainly would not have been able to defend herself as well in a pencil skirt.

Though the heels were probably going to be a hindrance.

She shook her head and groaned softly, the commotion in the kitchen was beginning to irritate her ears with the clicking and whirring sounds that raised higher in pitch.

She focused her gaze back onto the television, noted that Supergirl was tidying up the alien neighborhood with the firemen.

"Dude," the cashier shouted, tapping the side of his head, "Can you check the goddamn kitchen? The noise is..." he waved his hand.

His coworker rolled her eyes before swinging the door to the back open, "Hey, guys, can you tone it down a li-"

Lena did not even register the sound of the blast, the vibrations immediately felt like they were ripping her eardrums apart, and suddenly there was blinding pain behind her skull and her back as she was thrown against the opposite wall from the concussive force. She was on the ground in a breathless heap, disoriented, with the fiery remains of the building surrounding her; there was debris, splintered wood, toppled chairs and tables, and several dead bodies.

The building did not seem to want to hold out its support too much longer either.

Lena grunted, felt liquid running from her left ear and swiftly determined that it could not take the amount of decibels the bomb created. She quickly stood up, but her left leg faltered and she fell to the ground painfully.

"God! _Fuck_!"

She was on all fours, a hand pressing against her thigh to see that a shard of glass was embedded into her skin. She did not pay attention to how serious it was because she was so busy worrying about the stability of her predicament, but judging from the way the lukewarm wetness pulsed around her hand, it was not a shallow wound.

Lena released a bitter chuckle when she finally glanced down to see a small puddle form, and she could not help the sarcastic comment that she muttered to herself, "Great," she looked up in agitation, blinking away the blood dripping from her temple, "It's 'cause I'm a Luthor, isn't it?"

She rolled to the side as a pillar crashed to the ground where she had been.

"Yeah," she scoffed, ignoring the way her head throbbed at the movement, "I thought as much."

Lena pushed herself up with wobbly hands and limped away, an arm draping over her mouth as her lungs succumbed into a fit of coughing - she could already feel the ashes tainting her insides, and that her hair was losing structure from its perfect bun.

Lena could only imagine how unprofessional she looked, covered in soot from the cinders - there were probably streaks of mascara around her eyes.

She made her way through the maze, helping others up along the journey.

She encountered a child and her father, lifting a wooden bar from a woman in panic.

Lena maneuvered her way through and offered her help, and they managed to remove the object successfully.

The woman was escorted out by her husband with their child aside hurriedly.

Lena blinked and the edges of her vision dimmed, she could feel her consciousness fade more and more from the blood loss dripping through her fingers, from the concussion she had, from the short breaths she was making due to the embers.

So Lena moved behind the family, towards the exit, but a series of pleas for help had her following them deeper into the source of the detonation with their fearful cadence.

Several employees were trapped behind a door blocked with some rubble, though she could not quite tell since her vision was doubling, tripling. She felt her adrenaline surge up slightly again, despite the aching cuts and bruises that begged her to leave, and she tossed her blazer aside due to the sweltering heat. She leaned against a charred pillar to catch her breath before moving forward.

A hideous groan of metal halted her in her tracks.

Then the ceiling crumbled and Lena fell flat onto her stomach.

" _Agh_!"

She felt a stabbing pain through her right side and let out a scream of agony that died into an embarrassing wheeze as her lungs constricted. Her body cried with its trembling throes and she eventually submitted, cheek resting on the cold floor, wet with her blood. She felt the slab press down just below her shoulder blades and down to her legs; her arms were free to roam, but she could not bring herself to seek a way out.

Lena was pinned, hacking out red phlegm - she was going die from the flames, from blood loss, or from suffocation via punctured lung; her broken ribs protested every sip of breath she took and she knew it was only a matter of time before her lung fully collapsed.

She clawed her hands into the ground and pulled, but immediately stopped when a fresh wave of trauma hit her body and she released another shriek, hot tears spilling over.

Crawling out was an impossible option, so she gave up, she knew she was defeated.

Lena groaned and inhaled another raspy breath, her line of vision was red - her blood was pooling out so far that her stretched out arm and hand were bathing in it.

Her eyes fluttered and she saw, blurrily, that the trapped employees continued to wail for help.

The fire was drawing nearer, she could feel its blazing heat travel closer to her sweat-soaked skin. She silently prayed that she would not die from being seared alive.

Then Lena's foggy senses alerted her to another sound of screeching metal, but what followed was a familiar red cape in the corner of her vision and the employees cheering.

She was still conscious enough to know who it was.

Then the weight flattening her body was lifted and thrown to the side like nothing.

She thought it was the next best feeling after showing up one of her board members.

The building crumbled more and she knew there was not enough time to help everyone, and Supergirl knew that too, better than she did.

Lena coughed, sputtered out blood, "Save them..."

Her hand covered in red pointed across the room with violent shakes.

It was the most logical choice. The employees seemed uninjured and there were more of them, though less than she recalled. Lena was wounded, possibly in a fatal manner, and she was simply one person.

It appealed to Supergirl's utilitarian attitude.

"Save them," she breathed hoarsely again, and they were ragged. Her arm weakly faltered back to the bloody pool with a tiny splash, and she knew the Kryptonian could hear her voice - it was a demand, an order that she knew the hero would easily follow through, and she was not much afraid of death either, so she was prepared to be left behind.

Lena had nothing to go back to; her family despised her, people undermined her abilities, her board members did not take her seriously, and many, both alien and human, hated her guts and wanted her dead.

She had no family, no friends.

And Lena could not really think of anything that she wanted to stay alive for, but judging by how hard the employees were fighting against the barricade that blocked them from escape, they seemed to have many things in the living world that they were fighting to get back to.

She was a little jealous of them.

But Lena was not left behind. Instead, she was shocked when she _felt_ the hesitation, then completely short circuited when Supergirl carefully scooped up her fragile body and left.

Lena panicked, felt her heart racing in the strong arms wrapped around her, but she was too weak and her voice came in another choked whisper, "No. No, please. Save them. Supergirl."

The last thing she remembered was the figure of her savior easing her onto a gurney and darting back into the incandescent fire.

Supergirl was brighter than the flames.

* * *

Concussion.

Bruises.

Cuts.

Scrapes.

Injured left eardrum, partial, but temporary, loss of hearing.

Glass shard in her left thigh, torn quadriceps from the laceration.

Four broken ribs, collapsed right lung - pneumothorax - from being impaled by metal rebar. Her breaths were a little shorter, and the fact that she spent around four to five minutes in the fumes did not help.

Seven months to heal.

Lena was going to force herself to recover in two - if she could walk and do work without too much pain, then that was enough by her standards; she was going to spend as much money as it took so she could get back on her feet as quickly as possible.

She was discharged after a little less than a month, with strict recommendations to attend physical therapy, sleep more, and shorten work hours - like those last two were ever going to happen, rest did not come easy for a person like her.

The week Lena was let out of the hospital was relatively peaceful, though the incident did leave her shaken, as with all her other near-death experiences. But she hoped the tremors would subside, like they always did after time passed.

Lena learned that the former Cadmus operatives behind the alien neighborhood attack was also targeting the restaurant, or more accurately, her; it was a distraction to try and ensure that Supergirl would not be able to save the Luthor heiress.

They failed their mission.

But nineteen people died in the explosion and Lena swallowed down something that tasted like guilt and resentment, for some peculiar reason.

Maybe it was the awful aftertaste of the ashy soot on the tip of her tongue, maybe still in her lungs.

But she did not dwell on it.

When Lena was going over her quarterly revenue report she found herself relieved that she did not injure her arms, that the sharp pain she occasionally experienced with every breath was enough along with her wobbly limp.

Lena still managed to walk quite normally though, and she refused to take any analgesics - alcohol worked just fine, but her doctors did not need to know that.

She only consumed enough to the point the pain ebbed into a pleasant hum and she was mindlessly writing out paperwork.

Then Supergirl arrived.

It had been a little over a month since the bombing and almost two since their last real conversation.

And here she was again, floating on the other side of L-Corp's balcony with her holy attire.

Lena stood and strode over from her desk, a little tipsy, but she made sure she did not look like she was limping, and she was not, at least not to human eyes.

"Supergirl," she greeted with half a smile, "To what or whom do I owe the utmost pleasure?"

She realized too late that her voice was a little scratchy, less melodic than she preferred, and she inwardly cringed at it.

The heroine did not speak, so Lena did in her place.

"I wanted to thank you for saving me. Again," she chuckled, found herself actually a bit amused, "What's this, like, the fourteenth time you've swooped in? How am I to show my gratitude?"

"You must be more careful, Ms. Luthor."

Lena mentally backpedaled at the way Supergirl addressed her, and she felt her heart drop to her stomach.

She forced a smile, "Right. Um," a pause, "How are you?"

The question was earnest, truly, but she expected either surprise or nothing.

It was the former.

Supergirl seemed startled with the question, but her reply was practiced and even, "I am well. And you?"

Lena shrugged, avoided giving a really honest answer with her signature vague replies, and she knew that the Kryptonian must have caught onto her speech patterns by now if not before.

"The usual. A little tired."

"You are tense."

"I'm fine," but Lena's body betrayed her by stiffening more at Supergirl's statement.

"You do not seem so."

And she was right, because Lena felt emotionally and physically drained from everything that had transpired. From Kara's transcendence up to now, and her coping mechanisms did not do much besides distract her, besides perpetually postpone her worries.

So Lena gave up, knew there really was not much she could do to counter Supergirl, and she asked what had been on her mind since she woke up in the hospital after the incident that almost left her crippled.

"Did you save them?"

The question was rushed through, to the point the words sort of slurred together, and it might also have been from the bit of alcohol she consumed beforehand.

Supergirl hovered next to her now, both their arms were resting against the railing, but this time they were not looking out to the stars, but at each other.

And Lena did not think there was much of a difference, only that Supergirl was much brighter, only that she would much rather stare at Supergirl.

At Kara.

"Did you save them?" she repeated after no answer, softer.

"Not all of them."

The voice had a twinge of pain in it, and regret.

"Nineteen perished," Supergirl informed, "Thirteen on impact. You helped seven escape. I aided three."

Lena's throat clogged up, "And the...the employees, behind the door. Did you..."

She trailed off, her jaw clenched.

"I scanned the building when I landed next to you. They were the only survivors left. Six of them."

"And?"

"Four died."

Lena's breath snagged and she gulped, "Hypothetically, if you left me behind, would you have been able to save all six?"

Supergirl remained silent, but that was an answer enough, and they both knew it.

Lena felt the volatile animosity inside of her flare, and it hit her with such a force that she stepped back, away from the supposed goddess.

"Why did you save me?" she asked, it was quiet, but then her voice grew harsher in amplitude and tone, "They needed help! They needed you! _I'm_ alive 'cause _four_ people _died_!"

Silence.

"I should've died! You should've..." she shook her head, took another step back, "Why?"

Silence.

Lena fumed, she roared, "Answer me!"

"You deserve to be saved."

The answer came instantly, in quiet haste.

Lena was rendered speechless once again, and she was just astounded at how tongue-tied she was.

"You do not believe my words," the goddess stated factually.

No, Lena did not, and she knew Supergirl would have done the same for Alex, for Eliza, for J'onn, for everyone else Kara held dear.

But for her?

"That's not a good enough reason!" Lena shouted, her throat strangled, and she stalked up to the Kryptonian and shoved her chest, and Supergirl let herself tilt back before resuming her rigid posture.

"Tell me what the _fuck_ went through your head when you decided that saving me over six _fucking_ people was a good idea!"

Supergirl was silent again.

"Tell me," Lena said. It was no longer a shout, but a small, pleading cry.

"I do not know," Supergirl rushed out, and her eyes were widened a fraction as if she was shocked, "I wish I could say it was the more logical choice, but it was not. I am sorry. I do not know..."

It was then that Lena realized this feeling of animosity was directed at herself.

And Supergirl could see it too.

"Do you regret being saved?" she asked.

There was silence.

"Do you regret being alive?"

More silence, the only sound was the stutter of Lena's heartbeat as tears flooded over her eyes.

"Get out," she whispered, "Please. Just leave. I need time. I need..."

She choked on her unspoken words, placed a hand tentatively over the golden emblem of hope inscribed into the Kryptonian's chest.

She pushed with a gentle force, but Supergirl understood.

And she flew off.

Neither of them were sure if it was a goodbye.

* * *

 **Notes: Constructive criticism appreciated.**


	4. The Sun Scion

**The Sun Scion**

* * *

 **Notes: Find me on Tumblr at spoopercorp and on AO3 as Local_Asshole.**

* * *

 _Summary: Supergirl finds herself drifting farther and farther from humanity, but something - someone - keeps pulling her back and involuntarily tethering her to Earth. Her efforts to discern whether the person - a mere human - was previously friend or family always comes up fruitless._

 _Maybe because Lena was someone that could not be fit into those two categories._

* * *

"Kara?"

The utter shock was evident in Alex's expression and tone, and she stepped to the side, sliding the window to her apartment open. Supergirl floated into the spacious living room, dimly lit with only a nearby lamp and the television screen.

"I was worried," Alex whispered, taking her little sister's fingers into her own and squeezing.

Supergirl did not reciprocate, instead, she observed the action, mesmerized.

"You need not be worried," she reassured, felt the need to.

"Well," Alex folded her arms, "Last month there was that neighborhood attack, then the restaurant bombing, then another assassination attempt on..."

She trailed off when she registered a subtle change in Supergirl's expression.

A moment of silence enveloped them before a curious glint was caught in Alex's eye.

"How's Lena?"

"She's..." the Kryptonian was clearly caught off guard by the question, "Injured. Recovering."

"Did you see her? Recently?" Alex moved to the couch and Supergirl followed without a word, hovering next to the arm of the sofa.

"No," she answered, almost in disappointment, moving to the bookshelf, "The last we spoke was two weeks ago."

Alex hummed in reply. Lena's and Supergirl's interactions were always...interestingly peculiar; it was by no means steady, almost on and off - the latter would visit, usually every night, then the meetings would stop suddenly for an undetermined amount of time, only to spontaneously resume at their daily paces.

Supergirl visited Alex less often, at least once a week, but the scheduling was less...precarious, more consistent.

It was probably more stimulating as well; there were times when the Kryptonian would watch the show playing on the television and ask questions every five to ten minutes, it depended on how interesting it was. Then there was music and then there were the board games, which Alex quickly ended up scrapping because Supergirl _always_ won.

This time the Kryptonian was occupied with the books on the agent's shelves, which were honestly not particularly intriguing to read; the majority of them were non-fictional informational texts from Alex's time studying in medical school.

She did purchase a hulking book of American idioms, because Supergirl had suddenly acquired a keen curiosity with them, and it did make talking to her a lot easier. She finished it shortly though, and had a small novel in her hand instead, reading next to Alex, whose eyes were glued to the screen.

"I finished your newly purchased texts regarding the topic of psychology," Supergirl informed.

Alex did not turn from the screen, "Is there a reason you're so interested in that? You've picked up interesting reading subjects lately."

"Humans are...confusing."

"That's all?" Alex asked, momentarily glancing over before returning her attention to the television, "I can hardly see that reason being sufficient enough to prompt you to want to read books on psychology."

"Ms. Luthor is...confusing," Supergirl supplied instead.

Alex's gaze rested on Supergirl for longer this time, a brow quirked.

 _Of course._

Then she turned back to her screen.

She also fought off a grimace at how Supergirl - Kara - addressed her former best friend. She was not the only victim though. Winn was Mr. Schott. James was Mr. Olsen. Even Clark was Mr. Kent.

Alex was always Alexandra though. More formal, but more familiar.

Everyone's bond with Supergirl was unique. Special with their roles in their own little ways.

Alex often found herself exchanging her point of view to the goddess for more... _human_ situations.

Cat was straightforward, blunt, and practical with her advice, but was rarely visited.

Maggie and Supergirl seldom encountered one another, but when they did, it was always when their duties clashed - they were civil though, discussed the jurisdiction of the police and the latter's heroic antics.

J'onn was relatively quiet, only informing the Kryptonian of missions the D.E.O. needed to accomplish, but there was a connection there, no matter how brief. He kept her old suit as well, when it was discarded the moment Kara transcended.

Clark and Mon-El were reminders of Krypton, though she almost never sought them out.

James and Lucy often brought Supergirl around to experience the life of humans whether it was taking photos or going out for a quick bite, even with all the gawking.

Winn cracked jokes as many times as he could to get a smile out of her whenever she was at the D.E.O. It never worked and Alex believed it was because of Kara's current condition and the fact that Winn was not funny.

Eliza and Supergirl did not speak often, the latter only visited for the rare desire of peace and quiet in Midvale - perhaps the silently warm comfort of a mother.

Lena was...different. Alex had known _of_ their meetings, nothing past that, but Supergirl often left from them more... _normal_. Maybe even to say more emotional, more passionate, but that was all _normal_ for Kara.

"They won't stop talking about it, you know?" Alex said.

Supergirl's ears perked up at the sentence, followed by the name 'Lena Luthor' emitted from the television set. She raised her head to rest her gaze onto the news anchor, spewing out some biased details. Then her focus trained on Alex, if she was going to hear nonsensical human jargon, she would much rather hear it from her.

"Some people say Lena was a hero," the agent started, lifting the remote from her coffee table and lowering the volume, "Most say Lena set the stage up. You know, for some good publicity."

"At the price of her own well-being?"

Supergirl's voice had a skeptical lilt to it, almost disbelieving, almost irked.

"Ha," Alex threw her head back, "Right? Like, I get where everyone's anti-Luthor mentality comes from, but she's consistently shown that she's not like her family, and...people - humans - are just a little difficult to fully understand sometimes."

Supergirl nodded in agreement, turning back to the jumbled words in her book, "Is that why Ms. Luthor tends to be-"

"Aloof? Cold? Distant? Unapproachable? Lonely?" Alex shrugged, "Maybe."

Supergirl tilted her head, "She is not alone. Her secretary assists her often."

The agent chuckled softly, "No. There's a difference between being alone and being lonely."

"Enlighten me."

Alex shrugged again, "Well, for starters, you can still be around people and feel lonely. I guess it's like a part of you is missing - it feels empty, hollow, like nothing can really fill it, like no one really understands you," she sighed, "If it weren't for you or J'onn I might've still been drunkenly partying around all the time - alcohol is a temporary coping mechanism."

"Ms. Luthor drinks a lot," Supergirl stated.

Alex winced, "Yeah, I've seen how much liquor she can hold. She's worse than I am."

"Are familial, platonic, and romantic relationships not supposed to remedy negative feelings?"

"They do," she answered, "Ninety-nine percent of the time the people you're close to really help out."

"What about the one percent?" Supergirl inquired.

"What?"

"Aside from the ninety-nine percent."

Alex frowned, relaxed into her cushions and sighed, "Well, the one percent of the time you're Lena Luthor I guess."

"How so?"

"Her shady background prompted some sketchy sleuthing, Winn and I conducted an investigation on her history. There was enough information on Lex, of course, and plenty to go around about Lionel and Lillian. But Lena was always under the radar."

"What was 'under the radar'?" Supergirl repeated.

Alex shifted uncomfortably, "Adoption history, a few medical bills, filed charges, her standardized test scores and report cards, which, _wow_ by the way - she did a lot better in school than Lex did, and everyone says he's a genius, but maybe he was just too busy with his anti-alien agenda-"

"Medical bills?"

Alex's tone sounded uneasy, "The first one was a year after her adoption, she was five, and it was for a broken arm. The next was when she was seven, she dislocated her ankle. Ten years old she shattered a kneecap. Fourteen when she had a fractured scapula. Sixteen she was brought in with a broken femur. Seventeen she dislocated her shoulder and elbow. I mean, the Luthors certainly couldn't cite that she was clumsy, might've worked the first two times if they were lucky. But some of her injuries festered over time: old cuts, old bruises, et cetera. So, I looked into the primary hospital that treated her and they already had a good influx of donations, but the times surrounding Lena's 'accidents' were when they had a donor that provided a ridiculously large sum of money."

"You are implying she was abused," Supergirl deduced.

Alex's voice grew more distressed, "Yeah. Physically, emotionally, who knows what else. And it definitely explains the charges Lena filed against her mom and dad the moment she hit eighteen, but I couldn't get into them, even with Winn's computer skills - the Luthors _really_ wanted that part hidden from the public."

There was silence, perhaps on Supergirls side because she was digesting the information slowly.

Then Alex ran a hand through her hair, "I didn't like her at first, 'cause, you know, she was a Luthor - I didn't trust her. Then you two became friends and I had to change my perspective a little; she was polite, stubborn, but really genuine with you," her voice softened into a gentle tone, "Lena was still a little wary and standoffish towards everyone else, but I couldn't really determine my next opinion of her without some research on why that woman practically _never_ smiled, so...I got Winn's help, and I guess I shouldn't have been so surprised when I figured out the answer."

She chanced a glance over to her sister, still floating in the air in her sacred attire, her face like stone, frozen into an unreadable expression.

"She grew up rich, really rich, but she raised herself 'cause all the support and love went to Lex. She had wealth though, but it wasn't the usual case of a kid lacking in attention and given money as a substitute and hoping for the best. No, there was that, and neglect, and abuse. It must've been a constant nightmare for Lena."

"Indeed."

The voice was almost speechless, came out wavered, mostly even, but the fluctuation carried a cumbersome weight to it.

Alex observed Supergirl staring blankly past the pages of the text she was previously reading, and her eyes skimmed over the cover of the book.

"Menander? You're interested in Greek texts now? What story?"

"I completed _Dyskolos_ \- _The Misanthrope_. I am currently reading excerpts from all of his fragmented works that were lost in the Middle Ages."

Alex leaned over and read the title page, " _Dis Exapaton_ \- _The Double Deceiver_? Again? You keep coming back to that."

"There is a maxim that he wrote that has held my interest."

The agent chuckled lightly, "Another idiom you want to decipher?"

Supergirl's eyes softened a tiny fraction, and after Alex has been so accommodated to her stoicness, she easily caught the change.

It seemed troubled.

Her eyes narrowed slightly when Supergirl shut the book with a quiet thud and placed it back on the shelf.

"I must go," she said, quickly met with a firm hug from Alex.

"Take care, Kara."

She hovered towards the window, "It is late."

She gripped the frame, her body almost out of the exit before she turned.

Her eyes seemed to be in turmoil as she gave a nod, clear even in the dark, "Goodbye," there was hesitation, a little something that seemed like _humanity_ , "Alex."

Then she left into the night.

* * *

She kept going back.

She did not know why, but she did.

At the end of the day, the week, the month...after a particularly taxing mission, she usually found herself atop L-Corp's balcony.

And she knew it must have had everything to do with the woman who owned the building.

Lena Luthor.

Though she was uncertain to why she was so drawn to the C.E.O. - the invisible pull was there almost every minute of every day.

Especially now.

Because Lena made her _feel_ something, something different than what anyone else offered.

It was best described as something between familial and platonic, but there were many times where it felt different from the two altogether; the something Supergirl felt with her family and friends was gradual, subtle, and comfortable.

Lena caused a fiery spark of something, but it came and went within a heartbeat, and the Kryptonian found herself pursuing it constantly, almost addictively.

The godly facade was being peeled apart by everyone, gently, carefully.

Lena was tearing those walls apart with such passionate ease, but it was not gentle nor careful, more messy than everyone else's methods, gaining its pace exponentially, and Lena herself was probably unaware of her affects.

Supergirl tentatively floated, on the other side of the balcony, and kept her distance. She observed the woman, hair down, almost slouched, hunched over with her token alcoholic beverage in hand. Her fingers were wrapped around the railing, gripping so hard her own knuckles might have broken.

If it were not for the Kryptonian gliding over to unclench them.

Lena flinched, pulled her hand away.

"You drink," Supergirl said, eyeing the liquor with something akin to distaste, "Often."

"Why're you here?" her tone was quiet, a little snappy, thankfully not drunken, "Don't you have better things to do? Like save the world?"

The last remnants of bitterness from the incident were still there.

"You are still injured," Supergirl stated, "You almost died. You should be resting."

"I know you didn't come here just to check up on my condition," Lena hummed, clicking her tongue, "You sound like you want to say something else."

Supergirl hovered next to her on the balcony, her voice a tad lower, "We spoke of idioms some time ago."

Lena recalled the memory, and it was a pleasant one judging from the smirk that lifted her lips, "Yes, why don't you cut to the chase?"

Supergirl did not entertain the sassy remark, her lips twitched, almost unsettled.

"I discovered yet another."

A small but sad though eager smile colored Lena's face, "And that is?"

A pause.

"'Those whom the gods love die young'."

Lena's breath hitched and her eyes widened in surprise, but her features were hastily schooled into a hardened expression.

"Why're you telling me this?"

"I seek an answer, because when I read it...there was a weight within my chest," another heavy pause, "I thought of you... I do not understand what that means," she turned, her celestial eyes boring into earthly emeralds, "Tell me, what does it mean?"

Lena knew what she was really asking, but she evaded it anyway with an intellectual answer, because logic was easy to fall into, "That phrase is often used when someone dies young, below the average lifespan. Around eighty years here in the U.S."

"I did not mean the idiom," Supergirl notified softly.

Lena swallowed, felt her chest and lungs and vocal cords numb, maybe it was because of the injuries, but she was smart, she knew better.

"Then I can't tell you what you want to know," she informed, "I can't give you an answer for that. I'm sorry."

Supergirl nodded, "Explain to me why humans utilize that idiom then."

That Lena could do, it was _easy_ , "It's a form of comfort for those who have lost someone too early."

"Does it comfort you?"

"No."

Supergirl's brows furrowed in confusion and Lena averted her eyes to avoid _that crinkle_.

"You lack faith and hope. Your hardships have made you cynical and pessimistic," the goddess stated.

The Luthor scoffed, "Ha. No. I'm realistic. I'm a realist."

Supergirl felt something stir in the pit of her stomach, it was heated and bubbling, and it made her tone slightly harsher, "You are a misanthrope."

Lena chuckled humorlessly, "Same thing."

Supergirl narrowed her eyes, some part of her holy exterior cracked.

The vomit of words came out from her subconscious, and a part of it was meant to inform and to _hurt_ , to inflict _pain_ , "My observations have informed me that you severely lack in the self-worth department. You drink. Too much," there was no control, the words would not stop, and she murderously glared at the glass of alcohol in Lena's hand, "More so now because you can drown yourself and become numb to your emotions. You are plagued by insomnia and self-hatred and it suffocates you. It is not necessarily that your mind constantly berates, but when the time comes to prove yourself or to make decisions regarding something or someone with high losses and gains, you are often doubtful and loathing of your abilities; it is due to everyone in your past undermining your accomplishments and favoring your bro-"

Lena's eyes flared and a loud slap resonated through Supergirl's acute ears.

She felt a tingling sensation on her cheek, saw the human wince and retract her arm back to her side.

The angry heat in her stomach was replaced with worry, and suddenly she was startled - belatedly so - at her own words, at how utterly _human_ it was from start to finish, from the intention to the inflection.

"Your han-"

"Shut the fuck up," Lena scowled, her eye twitched from holding back a pained grimace, "You know nothing about me, _Supergirl_ ," she drew back at the name, shrank in her stance, "Get the hell out of my office."

She watched a tear, then another, fall from the woman's regretful eyes, in such pain that the already jaded green hue encased in them dulled impossibly further.

Supergirl felt a pang in her chest, her heart stuttered with remorse.

"I am sorry..."

Lena dipped her head at the apology and wiped her tears, then pinched the bridge of her nose.

She took a deep, unsettled breath.

"Me too..."

There was a lump in Supergirl's throat, and she took a step forward, then another, and then another, until she was standing tall before the Luthor in front of her.

Lena tilted her head up to connect their eyes.

"I have difficulties determining who you are - were - to me," Supergirl confessed, stroking the dark tresses with the tips of her fingers, "To Kara Danvers."

Lena swallowed, eyes fluttering at the action as she waited for her to finish.

"You are not someone more nor someone less; you are neither friend nor family," Supergirl let her hand drop away, "I do not understand. You often feel like both, but you also often feel...different to me. Figuratively," she raised her hand again, placed it gently against Lena's cheek, caressing the wet trails with her thumb, and the skin contact buzzed with electricity, "And literally."

Lena's breath caught in her throat and she stepped back, away from the emotions, away from what she was feeling, "We were best friends. That's all."

Supergirl's hand stayed suspended in the empty air before returning to her side.

"I see," she said, melancholic.

Lena saw something dawn on the Kryptonian's face, a sort of epiphany that enlightened her.

"Did I belong to you?"

The suddenness of the statement caught Lena off guard, left her speechless.

"P-Pardon?"

"Was I yours?" Supergirl rephrased, "Were you mine?"

"No," Lena released a breath, "We were never..." she waved her hand casually, "... _romantically_ involved."

"I understand."

Then, "You are cold."

Lena forced a smile, kept her shivering under control after the comment, "Well, it does get chilly at night. Or do you mean it figuratively?"

Supergirl unclasped her cape from her shoulders, draped the holy fabric over the human.

A moment passed.

"What happened to you? To Kara?" Lena asked, brushing the shock off from her system as she tugged the cape closer to her body. She fought back another wince when her hand protested the movement.

Supergirl waited a moment, contemplated.

"I encountered several Kryptonians, they originated from the remains of Fort Rozz, unassociated with Non and Astra In-Ze," she explained, "They called themselves the Sun Thrivers - a rogue religious sect banished from Krypton. They stirred trouble, I went to investigate. One of them was a high priest, known as the Voice of Rao, who was endowed with the privilege of speaking directly to the god; he chose me to carry on the legacy as I was still young, but retained Krypton's memories. They conducted an ancient ritual, imbued me with the reincarnation of Rao."

There was more silence, and it deepened torturously, lingered with its somberness.

"I'm grieving," Lena blurted out, then more tears spilled, "I'm grieving for someone who isn't dead," she turned to Supergirl, eyes ardent with anger and terribly forlorn, "Kara isn't _dead_ ," her voice broke, cracked open, showcased her vulnerability with its heaviness, "She's just...she's just _gone_..."

"I am sorry."

"Apologies don't fix everything," Lena whispered hoarsely.

Supergirl nodded, her expression solemn, "I have been made aware."

"I loved you," she cried, soft, gentle, "I loved Kara. I still do."

"I am still her," Supergirl tried, she felt something prickle and sting at her eyes, "I am still Kara Danvers. I am still your-"

"No," Lena croaked, tightening her grip on the cape over her shoulders, "You're not. You're-"

Something impulsive drove Supergirl, caused her to surge forward and roughly capture the woman's lips with her own.

The moment she decided to pull away, Lena deepened the kiss, a hand slipped around the hero's waist, the other clawed up her strong back before resting atop a broad shoulder. She grimaced when a sharp pain shot up her wrist, but ignored it.

Something primal snapped inside Supergirl and she pushed forward, slammed Lena against the glass separating the building from the balcony with a thud, earning her a groan of pleasure.

The soft mewls and whimpers quickly shifted into a noise that sounded like growling and Lena's hands dug farther into the Kryptonian's muscular body, desperate for skin.

Supergirl followed quickly by dancing her fingers up Lena's skirt, hiking it up to her hips as she caressed the supple alabaster flesh. Then she squeezed once, twice, before shoving her body closer and pinning the human farther onto the glass.

Lena grunted at the force, then moaned when a firm hand lifted a leg up and she curved it around the hero's hips.

The kisses became wetter, messier, then Supergirl trailed her lips down to the hollow of Lena's throat and sucked.

The woman released a high-pitched moan and brought her hands up around the Kryptonian's neck, played with the hair along her nape with feathery strokes, urging her on.

Lena sighed, set her leg down and lifted the other up, pressing between Supergirl's legs, who gasped at the sensation.

She returned the action soon after and it prompted Lena to bite down, hard, into unbreakable lips.

It encouraged Supergirl to press her thigh harder into the Luthor, who threw her head back, her neck vulnerable and so beautifully pale.

Supergirl was quick to assault it with her lips, teeth nipping here and there, then to the shoulders, then to the collarbone.

"Fuck."

Lena was overwhelmed, began to ride Supergirl's thigh desperately, bucking her hips in a wildly uncontrolled manner as she felt the coil in the pit of her stomach intensify, and she returned the favor simultaneously.

Supergirl encouraged her, swallowed her shaky moans with her lips, reveled in the dampness that was on her thigh and in between her own legs.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she registered the fact that this was what humans called 'arousal', 'consummating', 'love', and she - a goddess chosen - was engaging in them swiftly and thoroughly.

Supergirl pulled back, pressed their foreheads together, watched as Lena grew more and more sensitive to touch, heard as Lena's voice grew higher in pitch as she got closer, felt as Lena's flesh was coated in a light sheen of sweat.

She came with a weak and strangled cry, sinking her head into the crook of Supergirl's neck and biting into the bulletproof skin to muffle herself, and the hero followed shortly after with ragged breaths.

Lena's hips slowed and her whines quieted to shallow pants, and Supergirl found herself surprised at how dismayed she was at the fact she was no longer hearing the woman's moans.

She also found yet another powerful urge to kiss her and leaned in to plant another, fluttering her eyes shut, only to be met with a tear-stained cheek when Lena turned away. Then there was a hand pressing against Supergirl's chest, pushing her away, and she took a small step back, but her hand was still wrapped around the woman's waist.

"No. I...I can't. You have a higher calling than..." Lena gestured between them, "... _this_. You were chosen, you're meant to be something great, and you can't be that here."

Supergirl shook her head, "It was a gift. I'm not obligated to keep it."

Lena took a shaky breath, dipped her gaze to the floor.

Her eyes widened.

 _When did Supergirl land?_

"You're..." she felt her heart rate increase, "...on th-the ground."

She snapped her head back up to see blue eyes overflowing with tears.

"I don't want this, Lena."

"K- _Kara_?"

"I want to go home," she whispered, "I want to have a proper sister night with Alex, I want to play video games with Winn, I want to eat pizza and potstickers, I-I want...I want _you_ , Lena."

"Kara, what's - _Kara_!"

She collapsed to her knees, onto the floor, unconscious. Lena followed her to the ground, her arms firmly embracing her, panicking when a white aura surrounded her friend.

She watched as Supergirl's divine suit shimmered away to reveal the nakedness underneath.

* * *

The next time Lena saw her was a week later, when she was leaned against her desk and carefully observing the television. It was bright into the afternoon, the sun shining through her balcony. It was very unlike her previous meetings with Supergirl, though that was not the only difference.

"Water?"

Lena pivoted to see the girl of steel touch the floor of her building, wearing her old suit and that sparkling grin.

She darted her gaze to the beverage she was holding, not amber in color as usual.

"It's a little too early for alcohol I'd say," she hummed, gave a small and somewhat uneasy smile.

Kara took a step closer, her grin still scintillating, but there was a crinkle between her brows as she sought to connect their gazes, "That's never exactly held you back from drinking."

Lena chuckled, averted her eyes, refused to match it, "You make a point."

A moment passed.

"How's your hand?"

The Luthor raised a perfect brow, then dipped her head in shame, observing her cast.

"I was hoping your transition would erase your memories. You remember?"

"Hard not to," Kara replied, her crinkle intensifying as her friend continued to avoid her eyes, "The bones didn't sound too good when you slapped me."

Lena grimaced, "Yeah, I'm sorry about that, truly."

"Me too," Kara said softly, "You weren't in a good place, I should've recognized that, especially after the reveal. I guess I should work on boundaries."

The Luthor shot her eyes up, but the cowardice had it stop at the sight of the emblem of hope, carefully crafted into the navy fabric.

"That wasn't you that time," she argued, "Not all of it."

"Not all of it," Kara repeated, "But my tendency to ramble was unfortunately passed on to the godly version of me."

"And the crinkle," Lena mumbled, and she immediately bit her lip after those words fell from her tongue.

She quickly evaded Kara's reply.

"Do you remember everything?" she inquired, "When you became Supergirl full-time?"

"I do," came the answer, "Listen, I-"

"You don't have to," Lena cut in, "I understand. You didn't mean to. It was..." she turned away, made for her cupboard, "...a lapse in judgement," she pulled out a bottle of vodka, "A mistake."

She poured the liquor into her new cup and it sloshed, made a mess around her counter before shooting it straight down her throat.

"No," Kara protested, "That's not-"

"You don't have to explain yourself," Lena interjected, pouring herself another glass, "I have a meeting in ten-"

Kara gripped her friend's wrist, halting it from bringing more alcohol into her system.

"Stop," she pleaded, her voice firm, "Just...listen to me."

Lena pressed her lips into a thin line before nodding, steeling herself up for what was to come.

Kara gently pried her fingers from the glass and set the liquor down onto the counter.

She failed again to connect their gazes.

"Do you really think that it was a mistake?"

Her friend remained silent.

Kara sighed, "You're right, it was a lapse in judgement."

Lena winced, drew back and shrank from the statement, the pain was evident on her face.

"But I didn't regret it," she added, taking her friend's good hand into her own, "I only wish it could've been better. For us. Because you deserved more than..." she shook her head, "...whatever _that_ was. Our feelings are mutual."

Lena's eyes widened a fraction and her heart skipped a beat.

"We can move on from this," Kara continued, gently rubbing soothing circles on the back of Lena's palm, "We can have a little bit of a fresh start you know. There's this new fancy restaurant that opened, I heard their kale dishes were amazing."

The worry ate at her the more the silence fleshed out.

"Hey."

At this point she was almost begging for a reaction. Then she placed Lena's hand on her own cheek.

"Hey," she tried again, desperate, "Look at me."

Kara stepped closer, invaded her personal space, lifted the woman's chin up until their eyes finally connected.

"It's _me_ ," she murmured.

Lena's emerald eyes blinked, seemingly just registered the familiar blue in front of her.

Her thumb stroked the strong cheekbone.

"It's me, Lena," Kara whispered.

Lena smiled, "I wasn't quite sure, you used 'kale' and 'awesome' in the same sentence."

They both chuckled, planted a chaste kiss upon each other's lips.

* * *

 **Notes: Constructive criticism appreciated.**


End file.
